Let Go
by EternalOphelia
Summary: [OneShot] HGDM song fic to True To Your Heart by Stevie Wonder. Complete fluff, which is so not me, but I had to do it. Haha. Hermione has a crush on Draco and only Ginny and Harry know. But then she lets it slip to him that she fancies him. Could he ever


Let Go  


For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was stumped. Completely, utterly and frustratingly stumped. And usually when she was having trouble figuring something out the first place one could find her was, of course, the school library. For once, however, there was no book, pamphlet, article, or passage that could help her. Her beloved library had failed her, and she didn't know where else to turn.

Her problem wasn't academic, however, and only two living souls knew what was dragging her down: Harry and Ginny. She had yet to tell Ron, and didn't want to until she'd solved the puzzle. She figured that without him knowing, then her pursuit would be a lot easier. That, and she was terrified beyond reason. He was likely to tear her limbs off. And she didn't think she was exaggerating. Neither did Harry or Ginny.

It was exactly three months ago that she informed her best friend Harry and his girlfriend, Ginny, of her secret. Harry hadn't spoken to her for a solid week, until Ginny forced him to. It wasn't Hermione's fault, after all. She had no control over the situation, over her feelings, what she wanted and did not want. What she wanted was an answer. And her question was this:

Could Draco Malfoy ever fall in love with her?

Harry looked her square in the eye and said, "No," without the slightest bit of compassion. Later, when he found her crying in a broom cupboard, he'd apologized and tried to explain himself. "Even if he did like you, Hermione, he's no good for you. Why do you fancy a git like him anyway?"

"That's the other thing," she'd said, the first being her big question. "I honestly don't know. One day I looked at him and I couldn't stop staring. You don't know how hard I tried not to like him, Harry. You have to know that I don't _want_ to want him. I just...do."

Ginny, understandably, had been a much bigger help and a much better friend. Not that Harry didn't have her best interests at heart, but his hatred for Malfoy was simply too much to allow him to give her anything close to advice. Because while he wished his friend nothing short of happiness, he didn't believe that happiness should stem from Malfoy. Ginny had answered Hermione's question with a small shrug, which she later elaborated on when the girls were alone.

"It's not that he _can't_ love you. It's that he _won't_. He's a bad person, Hermione. And I know you know that, and you can't help your feelings, but the next time he's around just try to focus on all the terrible things he's done."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Hermione had sniffled. She loathed her behavior, that she cried so much more now. But, as she told Harry countless times, she couldn't control herself.

"When do you plan on telling Ron?"

"Ha! That would be: never. Are you mental, Ginny Weasley? Your brother would burn us both alive. And I'd very much like to live, thank you."

"And if you could be with Malfoy?"

Hermione cringed and looked away. It was still strange for her to deal with. It was alright in her own head, but to hear Ginny say it was like a blow to the gut. Image! Her and Malfoy as a couple. It was damn near laughable. And yet, right now, it was what Hermione wanted more than anything. Yes, even more than getting top marks. Because Hermione, of course, wasn't stupid. She knew when something was important, and this was it. She was head over heals, one hundred percent, completely, without question in love with Draco Malfoy.

"That's never going to happen, Gin. So there's no point in me telling him. Just drop it, ok? I don't want to think about him right now."

"Who?"

"Both of them."

_Baby, I knew at once that_  
_ you were meant for me_  
_ Deep in my soul I know_  
_ that I'm your destiny_  
_ Though you're unsure_  
_ Why fight the tide_  
_ Don't think so much_  
_ Let your heart decide_

"What are you staring at?"

Hermione looked up at the person who had just spoken. His tombstone-gray eyes bore into her like a thousand tiny needles, ripping apart her heart and soul, and crushing them together in the blender of heartbreak. He brushed a loose strand of white-blond hair from his eyes (she was so glad he didn't gel it anymore) and cleared his throat.

"Well?"

"You have something on your cheek," she came up with lamely, pointing to the first side of his face she could think of. It was a logical thing to say though, because they were in Potions class and more often than not students ended up needing a good bath afterward.

Draco pulled a pure white linen handkerchief from his robe pocket (Hermione wondered for the millionth time what she saw in a guy like him—what a priss!) and proceeded to scrub at the place Hermione had indicated.

"You got it," she said after a minute, then turned back to their potion, thoroughly mortified.

At the end of class, she packed up her things as quickly as possible, hoping to get out of the room first and be as far from Malfoy as humanly possible. He, on the other hand, had a different plan for her.

"What are you planning, Granger?" he demanded, shoving her against the wall of the corridor he'd found her hurrying down. "You've done nothing but stare at me for the past month and a half. I know you and your miserable friends are scheming something. What is it?"

Ironically, and understandably, all she could do was stare.

"Come on, mudblood. Spit it out!"

That certainly got her attention. She lunged forward, sending him tumbling to the ground, yanking her want to the ready as he fell. When he went to stand up, she shoved him back, sticking her wand into his cheek.

"Are you going to tell me or what?" he snapped, not taking the hint.

"I fancy you," she blurted out. Oddly enough, it wasn't the horror she'd imagined. In fact, she burst out laughing and lowered her wand, having to clutch her stomach where a tight stitch had formed.

"You have a foul sense of humor, Granger," he informed as he stood, feeling safe to do so.

"No," she laughed, wiping her eyes. "I mean it. I-I, oh, this is silly," she sighed, finally catching her breath. "Woo, that felt good."

"You're mental, you know that?" He didn't find her joke the least bit amusing.

"Yes, I'm beginning to think you're right. But I do fancy you, Malfoy. And that's the honest truth."

He searched her eyes to ascertain if she was lying or not. And, being a Malfoy, he was skilled at such things. One always had to be careful, or so he was taught. When he found that she was being truthful, he gasped and stumbled back, colliding with the opposite wall.

"You're not lying," he told her, as if she didn't already know the truth.

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Suddenly liking him didn't seem so wrong. Though having him know certainly put a dent in her confidence. And soon the whole school would know, and then she'd just die. "Umm, you're not going to tell anyone, are you?" It was worth a short. Unfortunately, though, she knew Malfoy, and anything to hurt her he latched on to like a leech.

"I most certainly will not! Do you think I want people to know!" he balked, horrified. "How _dare_ you, Granger! You have no right!"

"I have no choice!" she countered, advancing on him. He took this the wrong way, however, and shrunk back with disgust.

"Don't touch me!" he commanded.

"I'm not going to touch you," she sighed, shaking her head. "Look, I'm sorry I told you. I never should have. This is my problem. So just forget I said anything, ok?"

"That's easier said," he scoffed. When he didn't move to leave—she figured he was froze on the stop in terror—she slowly backed away and walked down the hall, not once looking over her shoulder.

Harry and Ginny would _never_ believe her.

_Baby, I see your future_  
_ and it's tied to mine_  
_ I look in your eyes and see_  
_ you searching for a sign_  
_ But you'll never fall_  
_ Till you let go_  
_ Don't be so scared_  
_ Of what you don't know_

At the prefect meeting the next evening, it was Draco who couldn't stop staring. He just didn't believe it. He _couldn't_ believe it. Hermione Granger fancing him? It defied all logica. It made no sense. It simply could no be true!

Try as she might, she could not ignore him during the meeting. For months she had hoped for such a thing and now, once she had it, she found herself shifting nervously in her seat, counting down the minutes until she was free to go. And when that time finally came, she was so unfocused that she didn't realize the meeting was over until half the students had left.

She looked up and sighed, thankful that Draco had decided to lay off and leave her be. Collecting her things, she exited the room, a heavy weight having been lifted off her shoulders. Unbeknownst to her, though, that weight was about to coming crashing back tenfold.

"Bloody hell!" Hermione cried, wincing at the fresh scrape on her elbow as a result of Draco Malfoy charging at her. She was too angry to be embarrassment about what had occured the day before. "What are you playing at, Malfoy? That hurt!" She rubbed her wound, making no attempt to stand. She wasn't about to give him another free shot. She may have liked the kid, may have loved him, but she knew a jerk when she saw one, and Malfoy was definitely that, among other things.

"You just couldn't keep your muddy mouth shut, could you Granger?" he hissed, his arms flying in all directions. From her viewpoint, he looked hysterical and insane. And for the first time since she began to fancy him, she wondered just how safe it was to be alone with him. "Why did you have to tell me that, huh!"

"I didn't think it would effect you so much," she answered bluntly. "What do you care anyway? It's my problem, not yours."

"Of course it's my problem! Everytime I see you all I can think of is what you said! Do you have any idea how irritating that is?"

"Not nearly as irritating as this conversation," she spat, finally climbing to her feet, having decided that he was harmless. A bit frazzled and very much over-the-edge, but harmless nonetheless.

"Excuse me?"

"What? Do you expect me to give you royal treatment just because I fancy you?"

The look on his face suggested that that's exactly what he'd expected.

"You best get your ducks in the right order, Malfoy, because that most certainly is _not_ about to happen on my watch. I fancy you, I'm not indebted to you. There's a difference."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but no words ever made it out. He was on the floor before he realized he'd been shoved, the taste of blood in his mouth from where he'd accidentally bit down on his tongue.

"Wha the bloothy hell ith yo poblem, Weasey?" Malfoy asked, his tongue numb and nearly useless at communicating.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, holding her by the arms and checking her over to make sure Malfoy hadn't hurt her.

"I'm fine, Ron," she sighed. Malfoy couldn't help but notice how annoyed she sounded. If his tongue didn't hurt so bad he might have smirked.

"But he—"

"He didn't do anything," she assured him, taking his arm. "Come on. I'll help you with your Transfiguration essay."

_True to you heart  
You must be true  
to your heart  
That's when the  
heavens will part  
And baby, shower you  
with my love  
Open your eyes  
Your heart can tell  
you no lies  
And when you're true  
to your heart  
I know it's gonna lead  
you straight to me  
(Got to be true  
To your heart)_

It wasn't even light out the next morning when Hermione was startled awake. Sitting up frantically, and watching her roommates do the same, she realized there was a magnificent eagle owl at the window. Without giving it much thought, she climbed out of bed, telling the others she would deal with the bird, and opened the window. Not surprising, there was a letter in the leather attachment on the owl's leg. She reached unconsciously for the bag of bird treats she kept in her bedside table. When the owl was gone, she sat on her bed, unrolling the parchment slowly. It was torture, pulling at the paper that way, but she just couldn't bring herself to open it any faster. Then the illusion, the mystery, would be over. And she'd have to suffer the fate of going back to bed disappointed.

_Granger,_

_I don't know why you told me what you did, but I can't get it out of my mind. It's driving me mad. If you're as smart as everyone says you are, then meet me at the entrance to the kitchens tonight at eleven. And if you bring either of your worthless bodyguards, you'll never know what I wanted._

Hermione sneered at the note, grabbed her wand, and set fire to it. It burned into ash, blowing away in the cool morning air. Only as she readied herself for the day, unable to fall back to sleep, did she realize he hadn't signed his name. It was beyond obvious that Malfoy had sent it, and the only reason she could think of was that, had the letter been intercepted, then whoever it was would have jumped to the wrong conclusion. Assuming, of course, that they gave a damn about the love lives of Hogwarts students.

It was 10:57 when Hermione came to the conclusion that she did, in fact, want to meet Malfoy by the kitchens. Harry and Ron, unable to sleep or study with an impending exam the next morning, were sharpening their chess skills by the window. She found Ginny curled in a chair beside her brother and boyfriend, dozing on and off. She shook her awake, pulling her away from the boys who only barely noticed her sudden arrival and more sudden departure.

"What gives?" Ginny yawned, rubbing her eyes. "I was—"

"Draco wants me to meet him in three minutes, Ginny. Your aggrivation can wait a minute."

Suddenly the red-head was wide awake.

"What does he want?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea, but I don't trust him. He told me specifically not to bring Harry or Ron—" Which wasn't a total lie. He'd said "bodyguards". Who in their right mind would assume Ginny was included? "—So that leaves you. Just put on Harry's Invisibility Cloak and come to the kitchens."

"You mean you're not going to wait for me?"

"I have two minutes to get there before he leaves, Gin. So no, I'm not going to wait." And, with that said, she took her own advice and slipped out into the hall, Harry and Ron none the wiser.

_Someone you know is on  
your side, can set you free  
I can do that for you if  
you believe in me  
Why second-guess  
What feels so right  
Just trust your heart  
And you'll see the light_

"I didn't think you'd show," were his first words to her as she rounded the corner, her wand clutched protectively beneath her cloak. "I guess what they say about you Gryffindor's is true. You are brave."

"Get to the point, Malfoy," she hissed. Oh Merlin, this was blackmail, she just _knew_ it! "If Filch—"

"I diverted him with Peeves. He won't bother us."

Hermione frowned and, even in the dimness of the corridor, Draco noticed it. Of course he could command a worthless being like Peeves. damned Slytherin.

"No matter. I'd rather not stand in the halls all night, if you don't mind. Some people enjoy sleep before their lessons."

Draco simply chuckled to himself, as if she'd told a mildly amusing joke.

"I see no humor in what I said, Malfoy. Now hurry up."

"I wonder," he said, not looking as though he was going to spill the beans any time soon, "if you would be so short with me if I were to tell you I reciprocated your...feelings."

For an instant his words gave her pause. But then, just as quickly, hot, boiling anger erupted in her chest.

"You're a foul excuse for a wizard, you know that? How _dare_ you play me for a fool!"

He came towards her so fast she didn't even have time to clutch her wand tighter. In fact, it dropped from her fingers as if it were a useless stick and nothing more. She heard it hit the floor, as did he, but neither made a move towards it. They ignored it, their eyes locked.

"M-Malfoy?"

"The reason I'm here," he said, as if they hadn't just been staring each other down for nearly a full minute, "is to understand you. I mean, I'll never be able to comprehend women or mudbloods or those sympathetic to either. But I thought, if I could just understand _this one_, then maybe I had a chance with others."

Hermione didn't know where he was going with his little speech, but she did not like the look it brought to his face. Was she inches from torture or death and didn't even know it?

"Now I'm going to kiss you, Granger, which I'm positive you won't abject to, considering your undying love for me. And, if I feel nothing as I assume I will, then you're free to go and we'll never speak of this. If I do, well, I'm sure they have an extra bed for me at St. Mungo's."

There were so many insults things in what he said that she didn't know where to start. She wondered, fleetingly, if Ginny were there yet. But all thoughts of her spying friend vanished as Malfoy approached her, snaking one strong arm around her waist. When she didn't resist, he moved in even closer. Their lips touched for the briefest fraction of a milli-second, then Malfoy launched himself back as if he'd been pushed.

"You shocked me!" he balked, unbelieving of his own statement. "You put a spell on me and shocked me!"

"Well I wasn't about to let you kiss me after what you said, you pompous jackass. Did you honestly believe I would humiliate myself even further for your sake? Sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy, but I'm through embarrassing myself. If you want to kiss me then you have to wait until I say so!"

He was stunned to silence for a minute. But only a minute, because it dawned on him that she hadn't _totally_ snubbed him. Which confused him even more.

"Until you say so?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"That's what I said," she snarled.

"But—"

"Don't think about it too hard, you'll hurt yourself."

He shot her a dangerous glare.

"Put your daggers away," she sighed. "Look, this is a waste of both our time. And I'm tired, so I'm going to bed. If this is really bothering you _that_ much, then help me get over you."

He looked at her with blank eyes.

"Merlin," she muttered. "Be mean to me!"

"And how is that any different than I normally am!"

"Be worse. I don't know. This is no longer my problem."

And before he could stop her, she was gone. Shaking his head and muttering angrily to himself, he headed for the dungeons. And, as he left, he could have sworn he heard another set of footfalls retreating with Hermione's.

_True to you heart  
You must be true  
to your heart  
That's when the  
heavens will part  
And baby, shower you  
with my love  
Open your eyes  
Your heart can tell  
you no lies  
And when you're true  
to your heart  
I know it's gonna lead  
you straight to me_

"Well?" Harry asked as Ginny slipped into bed beside him, her small body still cool from walking in the nighttime corridors.

"I think Hermione's plan is working," she answered, smiling into his chest. "Harry, you should have seen him!" she whispered exictedly. "He acted just the way Hermione predicted. He even tried to _kiss_ her."

Harry gave a very unconvincing fake-yawn, then rolled over.

"Don't tell me you're still not okay with this."

"I don't think I'll ever be okay with it, Gin. And I _know_ it's Hermione's happiness, and I _know_ that that's all that should matter, but I still can't help it. I hate him, Ginny. I truely do."

* * *

Hermione was enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon, her back leaning against a tree by the lake, her nose in a book. And while the sun's rays could not reach her in the shade, its warmth did, and she was content with that. 

Glancing up at the Gryffindor Tower, she was almost inclined to laugh. Harry and Ron were up there, scratching away at an essay that was due tomorrow. If they'd only done it sooner, then they would be able to enjoy this nice day too. Yesterday, when they'd decided to skip work, it had rained for six hours straight.

Her eyes drifted back to her book, but not before catching a glimpse of someone heading in her direction. She ignored the figure, however, knowing exactly who it was. When he finally reached her, she realized he was wearing Muggle clothes, as if he were planning on going somewhere outside Wizarding London.

"Going somewhere?" she quipped, not looking up from her book.

"You're just so perfect, aren't you?" Draco sneered, snatching the offending hardcover from her hands. "You drop a bombshell on me and expect everything to go back to normal? Expect me to ignore what you said? Pretend it never happened?"

"No," she said cooly. "I never expected a thing from you, Malfoy. And I never would. You assume too much."

"Then what was the point of telling me!"

"Honestly, it just slipped out," she said. "And to tell you the truth, I'm right glad it did. It's been killing me. And now that I've told you and you obviously don't _reciprocate_, then I see no reason to mull it over anymore. It's done. It's in the past. Just let it be, alright?"

"But you still fancy me?"

Hermione laughed softly under her breath.

"Yes. It's only been two days."

"How can you be so calm!" he burst out.

"Well it's hardly a life-altering situation, Malfoy." Finally she stood up, leaving her book on the ground where he'd thrown it. "Merlin, you're shaking. Come on." She grabbed his arm before he could protest, and led him into the castle, heading directly for the kitchens where they'd met a few nights before. After tickling the pear in the painting, they went inside, Hermione still holding his arm.

She left him sitting on a low, dirty table. When she returned, she was carrying a steaming mug of what smelled like peppermint tea. He took the proffered cup hesitantly.

"If I wanted to poison you, I'd be more creative than this," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. She took a seat on an equally small and dirty table across from him. He wondered fleetingly where all the house elves were, but didn't ponder it long. It was Hermione he was concerned about. It just didn't make sense. How, after being nothing but nasty to her, could she come to like him? He'd done everything possible in his power for her to all but murder him, and _still_ she'd found something worth liking. Hell! Even he didn't really like himself. Yes he was arrogant and proud, but he was far from likeable.

"Why?" he muttered into his tea, drawing it up to his mouth.

"You're right, you know."

Draco looked up at her as if he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. Her face was calm, yet contemplative. For the first time he realized she actually had nice eyes; not mucky brown or dirt brown, but a lovely chestnut brown. They made the rest of her face a little lighter, somehow, more fair. He wouldn't necessarily say she was beautiful, for her look was rather plain. Instead the word "pretty" came to mind. It made him wonder what some make-up and a new hairstyle could do.

"What about?"

"I have no reason to fancy you." She lifted her own mug to her lips and took a slow sip. Funny, he hadn't seen her get any tea for herself. "Which is why, for so long, I didn't believe I did. It is also why I think everything will work out in the end."

"You lost me."

"A building needs a frame to stand, Malfoy. My feelings for you have no support, without which they will desolve in time."

"And you trust that analysis?"

"Can you honestly see me fancying you for much longer? After we graduate? Get jobs? Give me some credit, Malfoy."

He scowled at her, though he wasn't entirely sure why. By all accounts he should have been pleased by her words, for he'd said himself that he didn't want her to want him. Yet, somehow, he found this information troubling. Though he wasn't about to tell her that.

"So you fancy me," he said, making a conversational gesture with his hand. She nodded. "What does that mean, exactly? You want to be my girlfriend? Have supper with my family? Snog in the halls between classes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Not everyone is so simple."

"Nor are they so complex."

"I don't know what it means, alright?"

"But you do want to kiss me?"

"We're back on that, are we? Tell me something Malfoy." As she said this, she slowly leaned off the stool, her face now only inches from his, her voice just above a whisper. He found that the hairs on the back of his neck wanted to jump from his skin. "What do you think kissing me will prove? I thought I was _dirty_ to you." And though it would seem that her words were meant to sting, she said them with such a husky and all-too-sexy tone that they only succeeded in causing Draco to close the gap between them. And, when he did, he received the same as before. A well-deserved shock.

"Bloody bint," he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

_(Ya know it's true)  
Your heart knows  
what's good for you  
(Good for you)  
Let your heart show  
you the way  
(Ya know it's true)  
It'll see you through  
(Got to be true  
To your heart)_

"You know what I think your problem is, Malfoy."

"That you're a tease."

"That you have too much control."

"There's no such thing," he informed her, then promptly stood, making for the exit. "This is a waste of my time."

"You have too much control," she continued, "and it's killing you. _Just let go_."

* * *

All was quiet in Hermione's life for the next month. When she encountered Draco, they acted as if neither knew she fancied him, going about their lives as normal. Sometimes, when he thought she didn't know, he'd steal a glance at her. When he did this, she'd turn away so he couldn't see her face, pretend to check something in her textbook (or notes, if they were in a prefect meeting), and smile secretly to herself. 

It was twenty-nine days after their strange meeting in the kitchens that Draco approached her again. This time, instead of looking angry or confused, he looked almost upset, though his deep scowl could have fooled the best of them.

"I think...you are..." Hermione braced herself for anything. "...pretty." Except that.

"Meaning what?" she asked after a moment. He couldn't possibly—"

"Meaning I think you're pretty," he sighed, exasperated.

"Malfoy—"

"And I'm not _supposed_ to think that. But," he sighed again, stepping a bit closer, "I took your advance."

She only looked at him blankly.

"I _let go_. Merlin, woman! I thought you were a genius."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "For the compliment, I mean. I think you're pretty too."

He scoffed at her, shaking his head and muttered something that sounded awfully close to, "Witch."

"But I don't think I fancy you anymore."

"WHAT?" He came at her so fast she stumbled to the floor, tripping over her shoes. So startled was she, that it actually crossed her mind that she might be in danger. After all, she didn't _really_ know this boy. One the other hand, however, she didn't truely believe he was capable of harming her.

"Yeah," she went on, dragging her hands through the air as if this were a normal conversation between to friends. "I think when I told you it sort of stopped. Good news, huh?"

"Uh...yes. Very good." And then he left her to her own thoughts.

_(Boy), my heart is driving  
me to where you are  
Well, you can take both hands off  
the wheel and still get far  
Be swept away  
Enjoy the ride  
You won't get lost  
With your heart to guide you_

"I thought you said it was working," Harry groaned as he watched Hermione stomp into the common room and head straight for her bedroom, yet again. It had been nearly two weeks since she told him she didn't like him anymore; she thought for sure that would have done it.

"It _was_," Ginny sighed, turning her head towards the window, unable to watch her friend's grief any longer. "I mean, any normal guy—"

"That's your problem," he interjected, a little too forcefully. "You assume Malfoy is a normal guy. You assume he actually could like her. She's lucky he didn't tell the whole school and scar her for life."

Ginny was so appalled by his words that she couldn't stop what came next. "Well you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" And she too stormed from the room, leaving her boyfriend both hurt and angry.

* * *

Great drops of water hurtled through the air, colliding with Hermione's face and hair. She wiped it off furiously, then hurled another—larger—rock at the lake's glassy surface. Maybe she wasn't the smartest girl in Hogwarts. Any one of them could have handled her problem like it was nothing short of breathing. But her? Oh no. She had to muck everything up so perfectly that, not only did Malfoy know she fancied him (or did fancy him, because he of course didn't know she lied) but so did Ginny and Harry, and, if she couldn't have Malfoy, then telling them was a huge waste of time and energy and emotions. 

She bent down and picked up another rock, only this time when it hit the water, there were two separate splashes. She turned sharply on her heel, very much surprised at the thrower of the second rock.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"I need an invitation to come to the lake?" he sneered, chucking another rock. She rolled her eyes and decided to ignore him. "I shouldn't have tried to kiss you."

The rock she'd been about to throw dropped from her hand and rolled just as far as the water's edge. When she turned to face him, he looked completely serious.

"Is that an apology?"

"No."

She wrinkled her nose in irritation. This, however, only seemed to make him smile.

"I'm not going to apologize for something I'm going to do again."

"Malf—"

He was in front of her before she could finish. With painful slowness, he lifted his hands to her face, touching the smooth, tender skin as if she would break any moment. When she made no attempt to back away, he leaned in.

"You'll only get shocked again," she breathed.

He smiled. "I don't care."

_ True to you heart  
You must be true  
to your heart  
That's when the  
heavens will part  
And baby, shower you  
with my love  
Open your eyes  
Your heart can tell you no lies  
And when you're true  
to your heart  
I know it's gonna lead  
you straight to me _

"Liar," he chuckled against her lips, kissing her once more.

"I know...What changed?"

"Well I'm certainly not about to let Potter think I'm a coward," he scoffed.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head.

"Last night he accosted me in the halls. Told me that I needed to 'grow a pair' and just 'ask you out already'."

"But you didn't," she pointed out.

"I am now."

She smiled and pulled him back for another deep, sensual kiss. Her heart knocked against her chest so hard she felt faint.

"I take that as a yes."

"You do know this means Ron is likely to rip you apart."

"Let that weasel try."

"When he finds out—"

"You mean he doesn't know?" he asked, shocked. "But Potter knew."

"I knew Ron would freak if he knew I fancied you. I wanted to wait...Well, he was never supposed to find out, really, because I never thought you would—" Draco silenced her with a strong, urgent kiss.

"Then let's go get it over with," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

"You mean you'll come with me?"

"You're my girlfriend now," he said matter-of-factly. "I have to protect you."

Hermione was smiling so wide that she thought so sure her face muscles would wear out. As they headed back to the castle, Draco clasped her hand, pulling her just a little closer. They had just about reached Gryffindor Tower when Hermione mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, "I _knew_ it would work." But Draco continued on as if she hadn't said a thing at all. What did he care? They'd both won.

* * *

So that was a random one-shot song fic (obviously to the Stevie Wonder song "True To Your Heart"—and yes, I did change that one part so it says "boy" instead of "girl" to fit with the story). This fic was nothing but fluff and I don't even know why I wrote it, but I like it and I hope everyone else does too. So tell me :P 

**REVIEW! **


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